


In The Aftermath

by GhostPatrol



Category: Smosh
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Basically the basis of ssg 2019 with a LOT of creative liberties taken, Gen, Ships and other tags will be updated as we go, This is gonna be a longun kids strap in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-01 03:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostPatrol/pseuds/GhostPatrol
Summary: 40 years after a nuclear apocalypse, survivors live and travel in packs across a wasteland that is now known as No Man's Land.Ian Hecox, previously the co-leader of the Smosh pack that has since been destroyed, is leading a new pack called Toxicitea. He aims to gain influence, in the hopes of oneday beginning the reconstruction of society. However, a mysterious rival pack known as Mushroom Clout has recently declared a vendetta against them. No one knows much about its leader, Lasercorn, though rumor has it that he has some connection to Ian.In recent history, Toxicitea has seemed to be on a winning streak to the rest of the wasteland. However, when Mushroom Clout comes across a stray survivor with amnesia and a secret, it seems that events within their little war will begin to take a turn for the interesting- and that much bigger things might be at stake.





	1. Chapter 1

Ian pulled down his goggles, squinting against the glaring sun. It beat down onto the desert in waves, though Ian and his compatriots were more than accustomed to the temperature. Heat-baked sand boiled around the gusts of wind that blew through the barren expanse. The thin clouds smelled like earth and rust, and left a metallic taste that stuck to his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He used the inner edge of his vest to wipe the grit off the lenses of his goggles. 

"You comin', Ian?" Mari called back to him. She was already entering the structure before them. It was a ruin- if Ian had to guess, it may have been some kind of home before the bombs. Whatever its intended purpose had been, it didn't look fit for anything by now. 

The windows had been shattered for a while, and the door was hardly more than a thin scrap of wood hanging crookedly from a single hinge. The roof was torn clean off, and the second floor only had one wall that could still be considered somewhat intact. Ian noticed some decrepit shards of wood sticking out of the dirt; He wondered if it was the remains of a fence, or just debris that had been flung about in the building's destruction.

"Ian?"

"Yeah, hang on." Ian tugged his goggles back on and followed Mari inside.

The first floor of the building was one big room; it may have been two at first, but it was impossible to tell. So much sand and dirt had blown inside that if it weren't for the small sections of visible hardwood, you could have mistaken it for a dirt floor. Trash, rocks, and animal droppings were scattered throughout and gathered in the corners. Ian made a face at the heavy, damp smell that permeated the air, and he saw Mari doing the same as she scanned the room.

"I doubt we'll find anything here," she sighed. "This doesn't look like the kinda place that would've had a lot of scrap to start with."

"It looks pretty picked over," Ian agreed, looking around for anything useful.

The only light was the misshapen beams of sunlight that poured in through the windows and gaps in the walls. They swam with a thick haze of dust particles which looked almost solid. He nudged a chunk of decayed plaster over with his boot and a few beetles scurried away in panic. He watched one crawl between a gap between some floorboards and into the dirt.

"What d'ya think happened to the people who lived here?"

Ian shrugged at Mari without looking. "I dunno. Probably died."

"Well, yeah," she replied. "But like, how?"

"Do I look like a frickin... historian?" Ian huffed distractedly, throwing a rusted metal container open. He brushed some cobwebs out of the tragically desolate innards, and briefly lamented the fact that despite most of humanity dying in a nuclear disaster, spiders seemed to be doing just fine.

"They coulda died in the explosion," Mari continued. "If they survived, they coulda come back to live here. Or maybe they just never saw it again..."

"Real sunshiney thoughts, Mari."

She laughed.

"Yeah, I dunno," her tone shifted. "I guess I'm just in a weird mood."

"Weird how?"

"Well... just weird, I guess? Like- oh, shit!"

Ian snapped up, "What?"

"I think I found something!"

Ian squinted into the shadowy back of the space. Mari was crouched beside a huge sheet of rotting plaster and wood, which was propped against the still-standing back wall at an angle. She was looking at something in the small nook between the two.

"Something useful?" Ian tried to see over Mari's head, but it was too dark. She stood and began trying to pry the debris away.

"I think so," she said. "Come help me with this!"

The sheet of material was heavier than it looked. When Ian took the left side to add better leverage, he found that it crumbled to the touch. The discolored plaster sank under his grip and left chalky residue all over his palms. 

Between the two of them, they actually managed to tip the wall over. It fell heavy and hit the ground with a loud  _ THUD _ . A rancid-smelling, voluminous cloud of questionable dust filled the air, and the impact shook the unstable foundation around them. This made Ian think that maybe they should have thought through the effect that moving something that big may have on the structural integrity of the house, but it didn't sound like it was actively collapsing, so it was probably fine.

Ian coughed around the foul taste and smell that was still dissipating, "I really hope whatever you found was worth that, Mari."

"See for yourself," Mari replied, sounding awed at whatever her discovery was. Ian waved away the dust in front of his face as he moved to get a closer look. 

What he found was a steel box, built like an emergency safe. It was covered in dust, sand, and grime, but it didn't look opened or damaged. Sure enough, when Mari crouched down and tried to twist the handle, it didn't budge.

"That's great, but how are we gonna open it?" Ian pointed out.

Mari looked at him with exasperation. She shifted position to draw her hunting knife from where it was sheathed, in the holster she had strapped to her calf. Then she held it point-up and, using the broad butt of its grip, smashed down onto the safe handle- Once, twice, and on the third swing, the rusted piece snapped clean off and clattered to the ground. She glanced up at Ian with a smug grin.

"That works," he conceded.

"Alright," Mari reassessed the safe. "Let's see..."

While she sheathed her knife with one hand, she tugged experimentally at the door of the safe. It didn't open like they'd thought it would; they both seemed to notice the rust coating the edges of the opening at the same time. Mari swore under her breath, and Ian pursed his lips thoughtfully. Mari thumbed the edge of the newly-made hole where the handle used to be. She cringed slightly at the sharp, jagged bits sticking out from its uneven break. Even a pin sized cut on some rust could be deadly. Neither of them would even suggest risking it. Mari glanced at her knife, but grimaced and shook her head.

"No, the blade could snap," she said, half to Ian and half to herself. 

While she focused on the safe, Ian glanced around, and suddenly got an idea. He picked out and grabbed a long, thin piece of wood off the ground. He put some pressure to test it. When it didn't immediately bend or snap, he brought it back to Mari. 

"Here." Mari looked up when he handed it to her. Her eyes lit up, immediately catching his drift. She took the shard and dug it into the break in the safe door. Moving back from the door, she braced herself on the body of the safe, and tugged back as hard as she could. After a few seconds and a fair amount of unsettling noises, the door screeched open. The wood snapped at the same time, throwing Mari back onto the floor with a grunt and sending splinters all around them.

"You good?" Ian asked, peering down at Mari. She was out of breath, but still laughed through her response as she sat up.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She gestured to the safe. "Just surprised me."

"Well," Ian replied, crossing his arms, "Guess it turns out I can be smart, too."

Mari rolled her eyes. "Sure."

Before he could respond to that, she went back to the safe. The door was ajar, and she pulled it open to finally reveal the inner cavity. Inside, it was mostly empty, aside from two items.

A revolver, and a couple boxes of ammunition.

"...Are you  _ serious _ ?"

Mari flinched slightly when Ian shouted right in her ear. Then she looked back at their prize in defeat. She took the gun. Popping the cylinder open took force, and the mechanism crunched and spat out some bits of rust when it did snap out. Mari took stock of its inner workings. Ian eyed it with a cynical glare.

"Let me guess-"

"Dead," Mari confirmed, slamming the thing closed again. Ian groaned.

"That's just great. All that- ALL that, for basically nothing!"

Mari just shook her head, shoving the useless gun into her front pocket so she could take the ammunition boxes and stand up. They slid open easily- the cardboard was weak and decaying still, but the airtight environment had helped it to hold together well enough. Tarnished but intact bullets filled both, rattling against each other as she shook the boxes about to inspect them.

"Well," she shrugged as she closed the boxes, "Wes'll probably like these, at least."

"That's good for him." 

Ian's tone was angry, but Mari knew he was just frustrated. The pack had been out all day and, at least in Mari and Ian's case, had nothing to show for it. They hadn't found anything good in a while, actually. They got by well enough with hunting and gathering and all that, but it was inevitable that they'd need to get supplies at the Market eventually. Scrap was one of the only honest ways to make coin, but it took hunting to find anything valuable these days. Their past three scavenges had been discouraging, to say the least, and Ian wasn't the only one getting sick of it.

"We could probably get somethin' for this," Mari tried, dropping the ammo into her bag and pulling the revolver back out. Ian sighed.

"Yeah, maybe."

Mari frowned, but didn't push it. She watched him glance around one more time. He looked at the staircase- or, lack of one. The steps that would have lead to the second floor had all but entirely collapsed in on themselves.

"Oh,  _ awesome," _ he gestured angrily, "So we can't even SEARCH half this stupid place!"

In a fit of frustration, he turned and kicked a fallen beam of wood. It bounced and fell slightly with a thunk. The two thought nothing of it for a second, until another noise came from the walls- a sharp cracking noise. Then, a creaking, so deep that it felt like the foundation of the building itself was growling at them. Mari and Ian met each other's eyes at the same time.

" _ Shit! _ "

The two survivors sprinted towards the door as the walls began to move around them. The floor shook and the sound of broken glass and pieces of metal rattling amongst each other was barely audible over the cacophony of splintering wood and shattering sheetrock and plaster. Mari reached the door first; she turned, grabbed Ian's outstretched arm by the wrist, and yanked them both off the front stoop. They stumbled out together, and got to the not-fence with less than a second to spare.

They turned and watched together, as every wall of the house crumbled inwards. The building folded like a house of cards, exploding into a cloud of dust that swept outwards along with the deafening crash. The ground itself may have rocked slightly, or that may have simply been Ian losing his sense of balance from the wave of sensations that hit him like a train. He barely covered his face in time. Once again, the smell and taste of plaster and earth filled his lungs and mouth, and he wondered, not for the first time, just how much hazardous material one could possibly inhale in a day.

When the commotion finally cleared, Mari and Ian gazed over the pile of rubble, which not two minutes ago had been a standing building. Ian took a second to catch his breath.

"Well," he panted, "I think I'm done with this place."

Mari looked down. She didn't answer, instead watching the light reflect off the un-rusted bits of the revolver as she turned it over in her hands.

* * *

"Well?"

Wes was looking at him expectantly. Joven narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, no- I am not opening it."

"Why not? It's literally just a basement!" Wes gestured to the angled steel doors in front of them. They were rust stained, but didn't seem totally sealed.

"Yeah, it's a BASEMENT." Joven argued. "Basements ALWAYS have shit hiding in them!"

"And that's why you want me to open it?" Wes crossed his arms. He had that stubborn look on his face, the one he got when he was ready for another 2-hour argument.

"Exactly!" Joven replied.

Despite the other man's claims that Joven's fears were baseless, he knew for a fact that Wes didn't want to open the creepy doors any more than he did. He frowned and pushed his silver hair out of his face- Joven had no idea why he kept it so long, it seemed more trouble than it was worth- before his expression suddenly changed. He glanced back to Joven with a challenge in his eyes.

"Alright then-" he said, "-there's only one way to settle this."

Joven already knew what he was going to say. The two men both got into stance, making eye contact and staring each other down. The afternoon sun blazed in the sky above them, and the shadow of a vulture passed by overhead. In their moments of silent preparation, the only sound was the whistling of the wind and the rustling of the dry foliage.

"Ready?" Joven asked. Wes nodded.

They both raised their hands.

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

Joven threw his closed fist into the space between them. At the same moment, Wes slammed his flat palm onto Joven's hand.

"Shit!" Joven drew his hand back in frustration as Wes cheered.

"You always choose rock." Wes laughed. Joven glared back.

"Best two out of three!"

Sure enough, it was another two rounds before Joven was grumbling in front of the basement doors.

"That game is stupid." He called back to Wes.

"Just open it!"

The metal door handles were hot under Joven's hands when he went to grab them. He hissed between his teeth and grabbed the long tails of his hood that draped down his front. After loosely wrapping both his palms in the cloth, he leaned back down and once again grabbed the handles. Gripping them tightly, he leaned back and tugged. He met resistance, the doors stopping short with a dull thunk. He grunted in effort, readjusted, and tried again. This time he heard a crunching noise- which made him pause to make sure it wasn't his back- and felt the mechanisms shift. He sucked in a breath, and yanked hard one last time.

This time, Joven met no resistance whatsoever. The doors flew open with a CLANK, and a spray of gritty dust flew up into Joven's face as he barely managed to dodge them. Before he could even finish reacting, a swarm of black, furry bodies poured out of the opening and directly into him, accompanied with the sound of high-pitched squeaking and violently flapping wings. Joven screamed and hit the ground on his back. 

When the chaos ceased and he managed to pull his arms away from his face, Joven realized that Wes was standing over him, laughing.

"Wow, Joven!" he grinned. "I guess you were right! Those bats  _ were _ pretty terrifying."

"...Shut up."

Wes walked off towards the basement doors, still snickering. Joven sat up and clamored to his feet. He dusted the sand off his face and back, knowing that he'd still be trying to get it out of his shirt at camp tonight. Then he noticed a new crack in his glasses.

"I hate the desert." He said, to no one in particular.

* * *

The air in the basement was humid, thick, and smelled like decay and a few other things Joven really didn't want to name. It was too dark to see much at all. He felt the steps begin to get slick with something he was almost afraid to identify, and when he reached out for support, he found that the sides of the unfinished rock walls were coated in the slime as well.

"Gross..." he wiped his hand on the back of his shorts.

"Yeah, it reeks down here." Wes looked around in disgust. "You think somethin' died?"

Joven groaned at that. "Aw- man, I  _ really _ don't wanna find a dead body today."

"You would on a different day?"

"Well- yeah, actually, good point..."

Joven's eyes adjusted slightly, and he could make out Wes among the ambiguous shapes clustered around the space. It looked like a lot of stuff was covered in torn sheets. He squinted, trying to focus his vision more.

"I don't like this," he complained. "I can't see shit."

"Yeah, hang on, I'm trying to find something for light." Wes went further back into the basement. Joven decided to stay near the stairs, not trusting himself to navigate the darkness. He could barely see in stark daylight; a pitch-black basement was basically a deathwish.

As he was thinking about that, something caught his attention. It was like a low humming, barely audible, but there. He frowned and tried to focus on it.

"Oh, I think I found something!"

"Yeah, yeah- shut up for a second." Joven looked around slightly, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. He moved a few steps towards the left wall, and found the noise getting a bit clearer the closer he drew. He felt around with his foot before each step, nudging the various mess out of his way. His boots squelched against the floor.

"And- three, two, one-!"

The realization hit Joven like a train and stopped him in his tracks. His stomach dropped. It wasn't humming-

It was  _ growling _ .

With a clatter, a tall board of rotten wood was thrown aside, revealing a gap in the foundation. Daylight spilled in to light up the space around them.

"Let there be light!" Wes exclaimed proudly. Joven, meanwhile, let out a scream, as the source of the animalistic noises was finally made visible.

Crouched in the corner, a hunched form hissed at the sudden light. Its skin was so tight to its flesh that may as well have not had any- every tendon and muscle was defined to the point of caricature. The daylight shone against its short, matted black fur, and as it stood, it was revealed that it was about the size of a wildcat. Joven noticed that its features were a hideous mix of a rat and a coyote; it drew back its pointed, torn ears, snarled with a mousy yet oversized snout lined with razor sharp teeth, and its beady red eyes locked onto Joven with a rabid glint.

"What? What's-" Wes charged around the corner back to where Joven was standing, "-Oh,  _ fuck _ ."

With a shriek, the beast launched itself directly at the two survivors. Joven grabbed Wes by the shoulder and threw them both sharply to the right, so the thing just missed them and slammed into a pile of wooden crates against the wall. The floor was still slippery with what Joven could now see was a mix of the thing's saliva and other fluids. Joven stumbled when his feet glided unsteadily in the mess and grabbed a pile of junk that was covered in a torn sheet to keep himself standing. Wes, meanwhile, lost his balance as his feet slipped. He crashed backward with a shout and was momentarily stunned. 

"Wes!"

The taller man looked up at Joven's shout, just in time to see the animal had gained its bearings as well. It used its ragged claws to keep traction as it spun to face the man laying prone on the floor. Howling in rage, it pounced again, arms outstretched and ready to tear Wes to pieces.

Thinking fast, Wes caught sight of a barrel within reach. He grabbed it with one hand, and as his skin came in contact with the wood, a faint glow spread over its surface. The survivor proceeded to lift the thing like it weighed as much as a feather, and threw it with a cry of effort as the glow flashed again and it flew into his attacker. It split against the thing's torso with a loud crack, making it screech in agony, and fell to the ground with all the impact of the several pounds it should have weighed the whole time.

"Fuck yeah!" Joven cheered, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he saw the creature twitching as it regained consciousness. He saw Wes struggling to get up in the particularly slick area he'd fallen in, and knew that if that thing got its claws or teeth in him, no amount of mass-altering-magic would save him. That's when he looked back down at the sheet he was holding, and the gears in his brain started turning.

"Wes!" he waved his hands at the other man. "Wes- get it over here!"

"What?! It'll kill you!"

"No, no, I have a plan!" Joven insisted. "Trust me!"

"I  _ hate _ it when you have plans," Wes complained, but he didn't object further. He turned back to the beast, which was back on its feet now. It eyed Wes with a mix of hunger and spite. Wes took a breath, before beginning to flail his hands in the air wildly.

"HEY! Over here, buddy! Come get your lunch!" he shouted, and as soon as the thing took chase, turned and ran. While that was happening, Joven tugged the dirt-stained sheet off of the pile of furniture and boxes. Then he got a hold on the ends, and sank back against the pile to hide.

As soon as Wes came careening around the corner, he hollered in an effort to embolden himself and leaped out. He threw the sheet out and caught it on the front of the animal, and its instinctive wriggling got it wrapped completely around its face and torso. Joven found himself being tossed about but kept a grip on the ends of the sheet. In seconds, they were both on the floor, Joven wrestling to keep the thing contained.

"Wes, DO SOMETHING!" he shouted. 

"Uh-  _ shit _ \- just keep it down!" Wes replied, sounding panicked.

"What do you think I'm DOING?!"

Joven saw Wes scramble out of sight. There was some rustling as he was apparently trying to find something. Meanwhile, there was a sudden tearing, and Joven realized that claws were beginning to poke through the fabric.

"WES!"

"Hang on- hang on-"

The thing thrashed especially hard, and Joven almost lost his grip. There was another tearing sound, and Joven watched as the cloth began splitting down the middle.

"WES, I-"

_ WHAM! _

In an instant, a heavy set of drawers came down hard onto the lump of the creature, which instantly went still. There was a new, black stain on the cloth, poking out from the bottom of the furniture. Wes stood to the side, staring down at his work, both of them left in shocked silence with the sudden lack of snarling and hissing.

"...Holy  _ shit _ , dude." Joven laughed shakily, the adrenaline still leaving his system.

"Yeah." Wes agreed. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees, trying to steady his rapid breathing. 

Eventually, Wes reached down, and Joven took his hand. With a disgusting squishing noise, Joven rose out of the slime on the floor. He looked down at his own dripping clothes and took note of how Wes was absolutely covered in the stuff as well.

“That was one of the angriest Mutt’s I’ve ever seen,” Wes commented, picking up his bag from where he’d dropped it in the struggle. Joven regarded the foul-smelling bundle on the ground one last time, before shaking his head and shuffling towards the stairs.

"I hate the desert."


	2. Chapter 2

"What d'ya see?"

Lasercorn sighed heavily, hoping his exasperation was clear in his tone. He lowered his binoculars and looked over his shoulder at the thin figure crouching beside him.

"The same thing I saw two minutes ago, Noah."

Noah blinked at him behind the thick frames of his glasses.

"NOTHING," Lasercorn clarified.

"Okay, okay!" Noah put up his hands defensively. Lasercorn shook his head, putting the binoculars back to his eyes. One of the lenses was cracked- they never did agree on who had been the one to drop them into the fire that one time, though Lasercorn secretly still blamed Keith- but they were clear enough to use. He certainly didn't have any trouble seeing the extensive amount of jack-shit that was currently present in their target area.

His elbows were beginning to ache from being pressed against the ground for so long. He didn't want to move position, though; he was laying stomach-down on the edge of the rock cliff they were watching from, and if he sat up, he'd be much easier to spot. He considered switching the watch to someone else, but-

"What about now?"

Lasercorn clenched his hands around the binoculars so hard they could have shattered.

"Y'know what, Noah?" he said after a moment. "I think I do see something!"

"What? Where?" Noah squinted and brought a hand up to shield from the sun as if he could see what Lasercorn was talking about from their perch.

"Here, look." Lasercorn moved back onto his knees, pushing Noah forward slightly and pointing into the distance.

"I don't see it..."

"EXACTLY," Lasercorn brought up a hand and smacked Noah lightly across the back of the head, "and we aren't GOING to see anything if you keep INTERRUPTING MY WATCH."

"Ow!" Noah rubbed where Lasercorn had hit him and pouted. "Alright, I get it..."

Lasercorn watched as the other survivor finally stood and made his way back down from the cliff edge to the flat area where the others were waiting. He almost felt bad. Or, would have, if he had any patience left after a straight hour of being pestered by the younger boy. At least, he thought, it made him appreciate the silence more.

"Don't tell me, don't tell me," Damien held up a hand as Noah returned. "He still hasn't seen anything."

"Nope." Noah flashed a thumbs up to the three others who were lounging around the small, rocky clearing behind the ledge of the cliff.

Keith groaned, swinging his goggles around his wrist by the strap as he sat with his head propped up on the other hand. "Man, I _ knew _ this lead was gonna be a bust."

"...Did you?" Noah cocked his head at Keith.

"Yeah." Courtney sat up from where she had been lying back on a chunk of a boulder. "I seem to remember you going on for the whole trip here about how we were gonna 'wreck their shit'."

"Okay, well- I was _ thinking _ it, so..."

The other three exchanged various replies of disbelief. Damien reached down and grabbed a rock off the gravelly dirt beneath them. Disregarding aim, he swung loosely and chucked it off the side of the cliff, watching it fly into the distance and it the ground in a small puff of sand. He could see a small animal fly out of the cluster of dry bracken nearby.

They were all getting bored; they'd been out here since morning, and it was past noon by now. They'd come on a tip that Lasercorn had received from some contact he refused to talk about in detail. According to him, their target should be passing through the area at some point today. Of course, Damien thought, there hadn't been an exact time. That would have been too easy.

"Do you think he'll just, like, give up at some point?" Courtney asked. She had unfurled the bandana she kept tied around her calf and dropped it onto her face.

"Have you _ met _ Lasercorn?" Noah scoffed.

Damien chuckled. "Yeah, he'd sit through another nuke to catch these guys."

"And we've never even _ met _ them," Keith chimed disapprovingly.

"That's a good point," Noah said. "Are we even sure they exist? Maybe they're just, like, a figment of his imagination."

"Ooh, now _ that’s _ a twist!"

Courtney smacked Damien on the shoulder for his addition. "Oh, come on guys- give him a little credit."

Keith shook his head. "I'm just sick of waitin' around for nothin-"

"AHA!" Lasercorn suddenly cried from the ledge. "Shut up- shut up, everyone stop talking!"

The four other survivors all jumped up at once as their leader scrambled down from the cliff ledge toward them.

"What happened?" Damien grabbed his belt off the rock where he'd set it down.

"Get your masks on, pussies," Lasercorn tugged his own goggles down with a grin. "It's go-time."

* * *

Deep breaths, he reminded himself.

His boots crunched slightly in the gravel underfoot, so he shifted his weight to the tips of his feet, trying to lighten his tread. He lifted the rock in preparation as his eyes fixed on his target- some kind of small rodent, rooting around in a dry bush beside the crooked metal skeleton of what could have been a car.

Just a few steps closer. It didn't see him. He focused himself on its position, lining up his arm for the throw. Some birds cried out in the sky. He wiped the sweat from his brow.

The animal raised its head- now or never. He took one more breath, and-

"SHAYNE!"

A new form swung down right into his face; with a yelp, Shayne instinctively chucked the rock, and it hit somewhere that was definitely not his target. He stumbled back and glared at the girl hanging down from the top of the metal frame by her ankles. She grinned back at him, seemingly oblivious to his frustration.

"...What is it, Olivia?"

"What are you doing?" she asked. He looked behind her and saw that the rodent was long gone. He sighed.

"I _ was _ hunting," he replied. She cocked her head.

"With a rock?"

Shayne shrugged. "I don't have my hunting gear with me."

"Oh." Olivia reached up, swung her legs down from the metal pole she was hanging on, and dropped down to the ground. "Why are you hunting, though? We're supposed to be scavenging."

"Olivia, I'm pretty sure we've found all we're gonna find here." Shayne gestured around them. "This isn't exactly a gold mine."

The area around them was a particularly sparse ruin. A small truck stop and that metal structure were the only standing features of the area. Olivia looked down at her bag- filled of a small collection of usable scrap they'd gathered from the old cars- and frowned.

"What were _ you _ doing on that thing?" Shayne added.

"I was looking to see if I could find anything from up higher!" Olivia said. Shayne blinked at her. He looked around them, and then back at Olivia.

"...We're in a desert."

"Yeah?"

"Olivia, there's nothing around us that we haven't already seen for miles."

"Not true!" she shot back, crossing her arms.

Shayne raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, really? What did you see?"

"There's a couple of trees that way!" Oliva pointed in the opposite direction from them, towards some distant spots on the horizon. Shayne pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed for what felt like the millionth time in the past two hours.

"That's great."

"Anyways." Olivia walked past him. "We still haven't checked some stuff!"

"Like what? Everything around here is completely hollowed out." Shayne gestured around them, to the myriad of rusted cars. Their hoods sat yawning open, exposing the empty cavities where their batteries or engines should have been.

Olivia approached a different piece of junk; the remains of a bus, with debris piled all over it. The hood was caved in, rocks and metal piled on top.

"What about this one?"

"What about it?" Shayne eyed it disinterestedly. "We can't get to the hood, Olivia."

Olivia looked at the wreck for a minute. Then she bent down, her thin skirt billowing with the motion, and began crawling under the thing. She completely ignored Shayne's shouts of protest, and soon she'd completely disappeared beneath the torn-up underbelly of the mammoth structure. Shayne jogged closer, looking to see if he could get a better view.

"Olivia- you're gonna get stuck, get out of there!" He bent down to peek under the bus.

"No, no, I got it!" Shayne ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If you get trapped down there, I'm gonna leave you until the others get back."

Shayne thought he heard Olivia make a fart noise at him, but it was unclear through the distorting echo of the tight space. A second later, he heard her clattering around. 

"What are you doing?" More clunking ensued.

"I'm- hold on- oh, fuck."

Shayne tensed, instinctively moving closer. "Shit, what is it?"

Olivia was silent for a moment. Then, her wavering voice drifted out from inside the bus.

"I think something's in here..."

"What?!" Shayne instinctively raised his hands, ready to- well, do something. Pull her out, punch something if it popped out, whatever.

And then he heard laughter break out from under the bus.

Shayne immediately deflated. A moment later, Olivia popped out from under the bus with a huge grin, holding her bag up to her chest. Her face was smudged with car grease.

"Dude, you totally fell for that!" she clamored to her feet.

"Nah, I was just going along with it." Shayne lied. Before Olivia could push it, he pointed to her bag. "Did we even get anything out of that? Or just emotional damage?"

Instead of responding, Olivia opened up her bag and shoved it towards Shayne with pride. When he looked in, he saw a collection of spark plugs, wires, and other odds and ends, probably taken from the engine of the bus.

"That's not nothin', is it?" she gloated. "That's two points Olivia, zero for Shayne!"

Shayne scoffed. "Yeah, whatever. You're the one with grease all over your face."

"What?!"

Olivia touched her face and saw black residue come off on her fingers. Before Shayne could remind her of the bandana she had tied around her arm, she reached down and grabbed her thin cloth skirt (Ian and Mari had insisted on getting some shorts for her to wear underneath after it tore to the point of hardly covering much at all). He watched her use it to scrub at her face, leaving black stains on her skirt. She glanced up afterward and saw his odd look.

"What is it?" she asked. Shayne thought about saying something but decided against it.

"Nothin'- when did Ian say we'd meet up here?"

"I think-" Olivia's gaze wandered over his shoulder. "-Oh! Now!"

He looked back as well and saw four people trudging through the desert towards them. He and Olivia both waved, and they waved back. 

"How did-" Shayne cut himself off mid-sentence as they reached each other. "Holy shit, what happened to you guys?"

Both pairs looked in equal states of disarray. Mari and Ian were both covered in plaster, dust, and other debris, meanwhile Joven and Wes were covered in some dark, foul-smelling sludge that looked to be slowly drying on their skin and clothes. 

"You don't wanna know," Joven said tiredly. Mari just shook her head.

"...Right."

"How did everyone do?" Ian prompted, ending that train of discussion. Shayne figured they'd just ask later; though, watching Wes try to knock some slime out of the creases of his boots, he had the suspicion Joven may actually be right.

"We found stuff!" Olivia replied, opening her bag to show Ian their winnings. "Shayne got some of it from inside the building, and I dug the rest out of that bus!" She looked up at Ian with wide, hopeful eyes.

Shayne saw Ian sigh slightly through his nose. He knew what the older man was thinking. He didn't need to ask to know the other teams probably hadn't had as much luck. The team leader must have been really been hoping for a better haul. But Shayne and Olivia's findings weren't nothing. It wasn't much, but it would probably get them enough for some feed for the mounts, and they could get by with just that if they had to.

"That's great, you two," Ian said after that short moment, smiling encouragingly in reply to Olivia's hopeful gaze. She beamed back at Shayne.

"Is it gonna be enough for tomorrow?" Mari asked. Ian chewed his lip, before looking up at the sky and then waving her off.

"It'll be fine," he said. "We'll make it work- we gotta head back now anyways. We stay out too much longer and we'll get caught after dark."

"Hard to make coin from a Lurker's stomach," Shayne added amicably. The others murmured their agreements, and the pack set off together towards camp. They hadn't strayed far this time, so they'd left the mounts at home, and made the trek back on foot.

They traveled in relative silence. After they'd been walking a while, and the sun was beginning to dip towards the other end of the sky, they reached the Hallway. It was named after its particular formation; a narrow valley, where the ground sloped upwards sharply on either side. Its walls were rocky and uneven, with bits jutting out to form ledges and overhangs all over. It was thin enough that only three could fit side by side at the widest point, at the edges, and only two could do so comfortably. 

It was when they got to the opening that Wes suddenly held up his hand. Everyone stopped.

"Did you guys hear that?" he asked. 

* * *

Courtney cringed as the heel of her boot hit a rock, sending it crashing to the bottom of the valley. It wasn't earth-rattling by any extent, but to any trained survivor's ear, it was a warning bell. She looked up and saw Lasercorn glaring at her accusingly. He was crouched on the left ledge, the one almost directly opposite hers. Damien, who was next to her, slapped her arm lightly in reprimand. 

She offered the brunet a sheepish shrug, and exaggeratedly mouthed a "sorry" to the team leader. He shook his head and returned his eyes to the pack below.

"I'm not sure," one with purple hair was saying. "It could've been an animal?"

The silver-haired man frowned. "Maybe..."

"I dunno," a blonde piped up. "Wes's gut usually isn't wrong."

Courtney looked more directly below her. There, on a section where two ledges joined to form a sort of natural bridge over the bottom, Noah and Keith were hidden behind a boulder in wait. They were looking up, waiting for their signal from Lasercorn. She watched as Noah adjusted his heavy cowl. 

Lasercorn always insisted that they wear something to cover their face when they did these attacks against Toxicitea; he claimed it was so that they wouldn’t be able to find them afterward. Courtney had her goggles and a bandana, Damien wearing something similar. Lasercorn had his eye mask, Noah had his cowl, and Keith paired his goggles with a scarf. 

When Courtney glanced back to Lasercorn, he was still watching the other pack, chewing his lip thoughtfully. She figured he was trying to decide whether to jump now or wait to see if they'd come closer.

"I'm not sure we're in a position to take risks at the moment," the one with brown hair- the leader, named Ian according to Lasercorn- said then. "We'll just circle back and go over along the side instead. We have enough time."

That must have been the second Lasercorn made his decision.

He looked down and snapped his head sharply to the left. Noah and Keith knew what to do. Keith moved to the left, out from behind the boulder, and clapped his hands together. His hands lit up with a bright, ethereal glow, as the sound from the action amplified and hit with enough force to shake the valley and send the Toxicitea members at the bottom reeling. Meanwhile, before Keith had even finished, Noah had moved to the other side, pulling out his slingshot and beginning to fire at the enemies. They all knew it wouldn't do much damage, but it didn't need to; they just needed to distract everyone for a few moments.

Lasercorn shifted his gaze to Courtney and Damien then; they were already in motion by the time he nodded. Lasercorn and Damien both leaped down, scaling the walls of the valley. Pebbles and dust kicked up off of the rusty orange sediment. Damien was already reaching for his blades as he moved, and Lasercorn's hands were slowly beginning to glow in preparation. While they did that, Courtney stood and drew her bow. 

The curved handle fit into her grip like it remembered the shape of her hand. The motion of grabbing an arrow and drawing it against the string, quick and fluid, came with practiced ease. Squinting down, she tracked the figures moving below. 

She saw the blond man from earlier. He was towards the back, and she watched as he swung with his fists towards Damien. Damien dodged swiftly, but the other man’s fingertips snagged the edge of his mask. Courtney watched the cloth untie and fall away, and suddenly the other man stopped- he went stiff, staring at Damien. She didn’t know why, but that wasn’t her job. She shifted her aim so that the arrow lined up with his chest, taking in a deep breath. As she exhaled, she let go. The arrow whizzed through the air, sailing towards its target, and-

_ "Shit!" _Courtney growled. The arrow hit the guy- but not where it was supposed to. He’d come to his senses just a second too early, and the projectile only nicked the side of his arm, barely tearing through his skin. It did knock him off balance though. She saw him reel back and grab his fresh wound, blood spattering the dry earth beneath him. Courtney grit her teeth and loaded another arrow. This time, she told herself, she wouldn’t miss.

The Toxicitea pack were all in the battle now. Lasercorn had caught them off guard first, lifting his hands to release a beam of explosive, blazing heat that the purple-haired girl hardly dodged. It hit the floor with a crash and a small burst of smoke, dust, and gravel, leaving a hot crater in its wake. Damien, having moved on from the blond man, skirted around the edge of the area and attempted to bring both of his knives down onto Ian. But Ian was quick- he spun and in a second barred two hatches in front of his face. Damien's forearms slammed into the handles and he drew back quickly. 

Over by the bridge, Noah had sprung back into action. He descended down to the bottom of the valley with the others and pulled out the nail-spiked bat he carried on his back. Swinging it to build momentum as he ran, he sped towards one of the Toxicitea members, who was so small and covered with accessories that Courtney couldn't make out her features. Something about her seemed familiar, in the faintest way- but Courtney didn’t have time to think about that. Refocusing on her goal, she pulled the arrow back against the string.

That was when everything began to spiral out of control.

Lasercorn raised his arms and fired another laser, aiming for Wes, who was charging at him with a knife drawn. But Wes reached him a second before he could fire. Grabbing Lasercorn's arm, Wes managed to shove it upwards just as the blast was set off. The beam hit the wall instead- and as Wes and Lasercorn grappled, it skewed all over the valley. Smoke and rubble tore from the rock in its wake, ledges collapsing as the heat cut through the sediment like nothing. Courtney stepped back and lowered her bow. The overhang she stood on was shaking, and she had to focus to keep her balance. Just as she was looking for a point to jump down to, the beam cut through the wall right beneath her. 

The chunk of rock was severed with a resounding snap. Courtney’s stomach dropped. She felt her center of gravity leave her as the platform crumbled out from under her feet. She had no time to control her fall- all she could do was scream as she plummeted helplessly towards the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos are appreciated, and comments/feedback are Cherished :)


End file.
